


Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sixties Music, dean is a dork, literally nothing else, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Castiel wakes up to his boyfriend - strike that, husband - being a dork.





	Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch

**Author's Note:**

> This domestic fluffiness was brought to you by this song:  
> https://youtu.be/z59EVHU8MjI  
> This type of music makes me seven levels of mushy, so here. Have this.

The sunlight streamed in through the small window in the bunker, softly waking Castiel. It was better than the godawful alarm Dean always set. To hear the birds singing to signal the early morning, the warmth from the sun kissing his skin.  
Despite the headache throbbing behind Cas’s eyes, he turns over in bed to find his boyfriend absent. No, he thought. That was the wrong term. _Husband._   
They’d had a small ceremony in Lawrence, only their friends attending, Sam as the minister. Sam had barely been able to make it through the ceremony. But Dean _hadn’t_ made it, so Sam did much better.   
It felt like it had taken centuries for them to get to this point, but now that they were here, Cas felt like he could do anything. Except maybe get out of this bed, which had become a cocoon of warmth, despite the absence of his new husband’s presence.  
Cas stood up, intent on finding Dean. His bare feet hit the cold floor, sending a shiver up his spine, and making the pain in his head spike in protest. He’d need an aspirin, and soon. And coffee wouldn’t hurt.  
He grabbed his boxers and an old, ratty hoodie that Dean had gifted him before heading out into the halls of the bunker. By his estimation, it was about six AM. Meaning, no one else was up. Sam tried to get up early, but Dean was the early bird of the bunker.  
As Cas neared the kitchen, the room he just knew Dean would be in, he heard a song pouring out from the open doorway. But what took his breath away was Dean’s dulcet voice singing along with the ancient radio that was always in the kitchen. It only picked up two modern stations, and Dean was tuned into one. The station only played music from pre-1980, something that always made Dean’s eyes light up.  
Cas rounded the corner, softly, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He saw Dean in only boxers, and, here’s where Cas’s heart melted into a pathetic puddle, one of Cas’s sweaters. The one adorned with hedgehogs that Cas wore the most. Dean always said it was tacky, but seeing him wearing it so casually was enough to make Cas weak in the knees.  
“ _Sugar pie, honey bunch, you know that I love you…_ ” Dean sang, content smile on his face. He was casually flipping pancakes, and had already accumulated a semi-large stack. Glinting just slightly on his finger was a silver wedding band.   
Everything about the scene, from the lyrics falling from Dean’s lips, to the methodical pouring of pancake batter, to the slight sway in his hips, made Cas fall in love all over again. Especially the fact that he could call this remarkable human being, who had stopped catastrophes and was a hero, his ‘dorky’ (Dean had taught him that word) husband.   
Dean flipped a pancake high in the air, catching it in the skillet before it had the chance to hit the ground. He took the pancake off the skillet and set it onto the plate of finished creations. As he poured more batter into the skillet, he turned and saw Cas.   
Instead of stopping, like Cas thought he would, his grin only widened, making the edge of his eyes crinkle, slightly. He held out his hand, beckoning Cas forward.  
“ _Can’t help myself, I want you and nobody else!_ ” Dean sang, directly to the former angel, and Cas nearly stopped breathing for a moment. Even after all these years, Dean could still make him forget his own name.  
Wordlessly, because he couldn’t form the appropriate words, he stepped forward and took Dean’s outstretched hand. Dean took Cas into his arms and began dancing across the floor with him. It was sloppy and ridiculous, but Dean’s grin made Cas looking like a fool entirely worth it.  
Dean spun Cas around, like the former angel had seen so many times on TV. A laugh escaped his lips, and it hurt his head, but he couldn’t care less. The elation in his heart was outweighing the pain in his skull.   
Cas was still severely hungover from the previous night. He’d forgotten how human alcohol tolerance worked. He was fairly certain that, at some point in the night, he’d danced to Single Ladies with perfect choreography that he never remembered learning.  
But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Dean’s radiant smile, happier than Cas thought he’d ever seen him, save for three times. When Cas had said ‘I love you’, ‘yes’, and ‘I do’.   
Dean paused just briefly to flip the pancake he’d been cooking, still serenading Cas, before turning back around and dipping the former angel, kissing him on the lips. It was sweet, and Cas savored it.   
Dean righted them and pulled away, resuming their dance. Cas began laughing, uncontrollably, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.  
Their first dance at their wedding had been magical, but in Cas’s opinion, this beat it. They’d been in suits, something Dean wasn’t entirely comfortable in, dancing to generic music Sam had selected.  
But _this_. This was them. Just them dancing to classic music, pancakes in the background, entirely comfortable, laughing and singing until their lungs hurt. That was them.  
Cas breathed in Dean’s scent in an effort to stop laughing, but every time he thought about it, he just laughed harder. He couldn’t ever remember laughing this hard, even in his human life. His natural state was deadpan, and he knew this.  
But something about this particular moment in time filled him with so much euphoria he couldn’t contain it. And the very sound of his laughter only encouraged Dean to act sillier.  
Cas knew that Dean would never act this flamboyant in the company of others, and it made him feel honored. The Dean could act like a five-year-old around Cas comfortably.  
Eventually, the song had to come to an end, and it switched to a Beatles song. Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’s lips, soft and romantic. After a moment, Dean pulled away.  
“I love you, Dean Winchester.” Cas murmured against Dean’s lips.  
“I love you, Castiel Winchester.” Dean replied.  
The pancake in the skillet burned, and was inedible. Neither cared. And neither told anyone about the morning they shared. That was just for them, and Cas knew, deep in his heart, he’d never forget a second of it.


End file.
